


Winter Wonderland

by SheyRicci



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 07:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15238680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheyRicci/pseuds/SheyRicci
Summary: The team loses Clay - again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, because I was sitting home, bored.

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute, hold up. We're going where?" Sonny interrupted. "To do what again?"

"Vogar, Iceland." Mandy repeated. "To escort…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Friar Tuck." Ray tapped buttons on his laptop. "Didn't know Irish monasteries still existed."

"They do." Mandy sighed wearily. "In many countries." man, they could wear her out.

"A monk?" Sonny slapped his laptop closed. "Don't they run around in hemp robes and rope sandals? What the hell they doing in Iceland? Wouldn't they freeze?"

"Is it winter over there?" Brock tossed a ball to Cerberus. "I think it's winter over there."

The dog returned with the ball to Ray, who threw it again.

"I don't want to go. I hate the cold." Sonny shook his head. "Snow, ice, all white all over, everything frozen."

"Wheels up at 0800." Eric shut down the wall screen. "Get some sleep."

"Yeah, a minute, still catching up here." Sonny sat back. "We all going?"

"Just Bravo 6." Eric replied. "Problem with that?"

"Hell, yeah." Sonny pushed his chair back from the table but didn't stand up. "Why us? Seems to me any Seal Team unit can babysit Friar Tuck, escort him to a transport plane."

"Yeah," Trent agreed. "Why do we have to escort the mamby-pamby? No escape plan needed. Not retrieving any top secret item."

"Why not send our Tier 2 unit?" Ray questioned, scratching the dogs ears.

Eric rubbed his forehead. Why, again, was this team his favorite? Whine, whine, whine. Wine. Oh yeah, wine was definitely needed…..

"Above your pay grade." Mandy answered before Eric could. And he wasn't any happier with that response than the team was.

"So, no mechanics, no pilots, no drivers, no medics, no support team? Just shooters?" Sonny continued. "Like, for real?"

"For real." Mandy confirmed.

"So, that means you're going with us, right?" Jason finally spoke up. "You know," he paused. "If it's need to know and we don't need to know."

"I'm not, and it's early spring in Vogar, you won't freeze. Beautiful country, Winter Wonderland."

Jason looked at Blackburn, Eric nodded. Yes, he would be accompanying them along with Davis.

"Pack a hat." Davis quipped saucily.

"Question is, are we taking the kid with us?" Sonny asked.

"There a reason we shouldn't?" Jason cupped his chin in his hand, raised an eyebrow.

"Well now, you see boss," Sonny crossed his ankles, feet on the table. "We have this habit of losing him."

"We don't lose him." Ray countered, but couldn't hide his grin. "When have we lost him? Jace, you know what he's talking about?"

"Aah, the Saudi Prince had a harem….they wanted a pet?" Sonny reminded them. "I can go on."

"He wasn't hurt." Mandy laughed.

"Smelled so pretty when you brought him back." Lisa grinned.

"He keeps us on our toes." Trent agreed. "He's back from med leave tomorrow."

"Doc cleared him." Brock said. "Bruised hip is all. You know, from the last time we didn't lose him."

Jason stood up. Retrieval of a monk from his monastery on some ice-capped mountainside, in a remote fishing village, in a friendly country shouldn't be difficult. Was even a short flight. Two days, tops.

What could go wrong?

No jumping, no diving, no suicide bombers, no shooting, no gun fights…..easy/peasy.

"Page him."

***000***

Sonny was not happy. Not at all. Oh no. He was mad. He was pissed. Hell, he was fucking furious. If Mandy Ellis was in front of him right now, tromping on this fucking path with them, he'd have quite a few, unpleasant things to say to her.

Above his pay grade? He'd give her a fucking 'grade'! A big fat F minus!

Jason had ordered him three times to shut up, they would deal with it later, but he couldn't let it go. Holding onto his anger heated his blood, made him hot! And he was making a list to rub in her face the next time he laid eyes on her.

_1\. Vogar had not been their final destination. It was simply the closest inhabitable village near the monastery._   
_2\. They were hiking because their transport could go no further into the hills. Lack of roads._   
_3\. Snowmobiles had not been provided, nor were they available._   
_4\. They were not adequately dressed for the sixish mile round trip hike._   
_5\. If this was fucking spring, he didn't ever want to see winter._   
_6\. Friar Tuck had complained since they first laid eyes on him._

He hated the cold, the snow, the ice….and damn, it was cold. Winter Wonderland, his ass! Not.

Blackburn and Davis had remained on the plane at the airport. The team had dressed for a ride in a heated vehicle; hats, gloves, jackets. And hell yeah, all were great for short dashes to and from the truck, to and from buildings. But not for a fucking hike. Not in pants that didn't cut the fucking wind. Pants that didn't repel water.

"Thought you bible thumpers took vows of silence." Sonny gave the good brother a shove to get him to pick up his pace. The monk had yet to stop complaining and Sonny was really getting tired of hearing him bitch.

"No need to hurl insults." The monk said stiffly. "This is not the extraction I was expecting."

"Now would be a good time to take that vow, don't you think?" Sonny retorted. He was in a mood to vent some anger. "Think I want to be out here, marching your ass…"

_BOO-BOOM!_

Simultaneously, six bellies hit the ground. The monk was shoved forward so hard and so fast, he hit the ground with a thud that rendered him silent. Sonny took pleasure in the push.

"Boss!"

"The fuck was that?!"

"Stay down! Count off! One, good!" Jason yelled.

Two through six counted off.

"Anyone got comms?" Ray yelled. "Comms? Anyone?"

_7\. Faulty equipment._

_BOO-BOOOOooooOOOmmmMMMMMM!_

The Seals belly crawled towards one another, bringing rifles around as each sought for the threat, the cause of the noise, and attempted to establish communication with Blackburn and Davis.

"Anyone got a location?"

_8\. Bullshit intel._

"The fuck?" Brock bellowed. "The hell's this shit?"

"Who's shooting? There wasn't supposed to be any shooting!" Trent ducked his head.

_8A. Bullshit intel resulting in;_   
_no sniper rifle, limited ammo, no vests, no helmets._

"Ray! You and Brock give cover. Sonny, Trent, take him and head for that copse of shrubs." Jason commanded.

"Cover where!" Ray yelled.

And that blew the lid completely off Sonny's temper. Protect the man who had argued with them since introduction? The man who had dragged his feet, delayed their departure, traveled slowly deliberately? Protect him at the possible cost of a bullet in the back?

His big hand clamped down on the monk's scrawny neck and dragged him to his knees. "You run, you got me?!" Sonny yelled.

"I don't see what all this fuss is about." The monk sniffed disdainfully, flicking snow from his sleeves. "It's merely a hunter."

Trent and Sonny dragged the protesting monk to the protection of some shrubs that covered a rock they could shelter behind.

"You good?" Ray yelled.

"Good." Trent yelled back.

Kneeling on the monk with a knee firmly between his shoulder blades, Sonny and Trent took aim but didn't fire. Ray and Brock joined them.

"Let me up! Let me up! Get off me, you big oaf!" the monk was flailing in the snow, making a face-down snow angel. If he were in a pool, he'd be swimming some mighty fast laps. "This is unacceptable!"

"Shut up!" all four chorused.

"Boss!" Ray yelled. "Jason?! JASON!"

Jason slid down the rock from above, landing in a crouch. "Anyone got comms?"

"Nothing."

"Nope."

"No."

"I order you to get off me. I demand to be allowed to get up!"

"Shut up." Ray snapped. "You don't get to issue orders."

"Can I tie him up?" Sonny asked. "Gag him?"

"No." Jason pulled a cell from his pocket. "No signal." He shoved it back in his pocket. "Sat phone?"

"Spencer?" Sonny said. "Sat got a signal?"

No answer.

Five Seals looked around. Looked at one another. Looked at the spot in their circle where a sixth Seal should be standing.

"DAMMIT!" Jason exploded, whipping his gloves to the ground. "Why is it every FUCKING time we lose that kid, comms are out?"

_9\. They'd gone and lost Clay – again._

"You." Sonny sat the monk up, turned him around and shook him until his teeth rattled. "Who the hell hunts around here?"

"Your language is despicable."

"God-dammit Jason, I'm going to wring his fucking neck." Sonny seethed.

"Taking the Lord's name in…."

"Jesus Christ! Shut UP!" Ray, Trent, Brock, yelled.

There were no more shots. The monk wisely remained silent.

"Trent, you and Brock take the good brother, make transport. Ray, you trail." Jason was scanning the terrain. "Sonny, with me."

"Tellin' ya Boss, no more above my pay grade shit." Sonny said. "Sent us in here blind, anything happens to that kid, I'm shedding blood."

"Now see here," the monk began. "Your job is to see me to safety. Splitting up and taking time to search for your lost employee is not serving me to the best of your ability." His nose was in the air. "And you're supposed to be the best." He added disdainfully. "I shouldn't have to point that out to you."

"Our job?" Trent repeated slowly.

"You bitched over leaving with us." Brock reminded the monk. "Now, you're our job?"

"Employ….." Sonny sputtered. "Empl…employee? Did he say employee? Did he just call Clay an _employee_?!"

"What would you suggest we do?" Ray asked incredulously. "Leave him out here?"

"That's exactly what I am suggesting."

"Oh, that's war." Sonny went for blood.

Both Ray and Jason pulled him up short.

"You have your orders." Jason said once Sonny was subdued. "We're not leaving him Sonny."

"You most certainly are!" the monk gained his feet and drew himself up, chest out, shoulders back. "Do you know who I am? I am…mmfffmmfffm!" his eyes went wide when Ray slapped duct tape over his mouth. Brock pulled the monk's hands together behind his back and Trent bound them with more tape.

"You can tell his boss…" Ray pointed at Jason. "Who the fuck you are." He shoved the man towards Brock. "We don't care."

"Mumph…Mmffmmmffmmm!"

"You're above our pay grade." Brock gave him a hard shove.

"You're a need to know job and we don't need to know." Trent shoved him back.

"Head out." Jason ordered. "Sonny, with me."

()

Clay didn't know where he was. The earth beneath his feet had shook and trembled. He'd heard a gunshot. Next thing he knew, he was falling. Then there was water….he didn't recall going over or sliding down a hill or bank, but he must have, for he lay in a wet, crumpled heap with his head aching, his sore hip – an injury from their last job – throbbing.

He put his palms down flat, his hands twinged at the cold contact…..odd, he wore gloves…..oh, they were wet. Huh. Not good. Snow wouldn't soak through that fast…but water would….his forehead was wet, must have snow in his hair….he raised a hand, the gloves were heavy….the snow was pink…..drip, drip, drip…huh, snow in Iceland was pink? It wasn't. So, blood? He was bleeding? Couldn't be good. He groaned, he was cold. Wet. Cold and wet. He needed to move. He couldn't stay where he was. He was where again? Man, his head hurt, his eyes were sticky, didn't want to blink, his face was wet…..he hunched a shoulder to wipe his eyes and pain lanced through his skull.

"Shit." He moaned.

Driven by training, instinct, knowledge, he rolled to his knees, hands slipping and sliding in the water. His jacket was wet, soaked through to his shirt. His cargo pants were wet, held the water, the material heavy, dragging him down, hampering his attempts to crawl. He was cold. Getting colder. Going numb. The water wasn't deep, he wasn't in danger of drowning, but damn, it was cold. Dangerously cold.

Sluggish now, he knew his time to get out of the water was growing short. In these temperatures, with the complications of wind and snow making the air temp even colder, hypothermia would set in, somewhere between 15 to 30 minutes. And he had no idea how long he'd been in the water either. Shaking off a glove, he opened his comm and left it live.

Teeth gritted, he managed to gain his knees. His arms and hands didn't want to cooperate, but he needed only his feet to walk, and the bank was right over there….he could make it. All he had to do was get out of the water. Must have hurt something in the fall down the hill…..everything was blurry, out of focus, not where it should be…he slipped, falling face first into the water. Spitting, he rolled onto his back, crying out when his sore hip rolled over a rock. Waiting for his breath to return, he saw the sky….dark clouds…a storm? Urgency now driving him, he pushed with his feet, digging his heels, and wormed his way to the bank on his back. He was exhausted, felt everything grow heavy, become distant…..and his last conscious thought was the motion of pulling his foot out of the water hurt a hell of a lot more than it should…..being numb with cold and all.

()

Jason and Sonny searched, looked, canvased. Retraced their steps and started again. No amount of calling or threatening bodily harm once they laid hands on him produced an appearance or evoked a response from Clay.

"This is bullshit!" Sonny bellowed, throwing hands of snow in a fit, kicking a tree. "People just don't fucking disappear! I swear to God, I'm tagging his ear with GPS!" more fistfuls of snow thrown in a different direction. "The hell Jason! He has to be somewhere!"

It'd been nearly an hour and they'd yet to find a sign of where Clay had disappeared.

"You see anything?" Jason turned in a circle. "No tracks, nothing."

"See what? I see snow Jason! God Damn Snow! Fucking Winter Wonderland! When I get my hands on that bossy…..what the fuck are you doing?"

"Listen!" Jason hissed, waving Sonny quiet. "Listen…listen…hear that?"

And Sonny obeyed, for all of three seconds. "I don't hear shit!" he tried his comm, static….no wait, water. Water? "What the…..?"

Jason's palm went flat against his chest and Sonny went silent.

"There! That!"

"Are comms up?" he tried contacting Blackburn and Davis, nothing. Tried Trent, tried Brock, nothing. Tried Ray, nothing. Tried Jason, connected. "So, that's Spencer's comm."

"But where the hell is he?"

"That's water." Sonny said. "Right? Tell me I'm not crazy. There's no river here."

"Over…..there?" Jason pointed, stepping left where the hill descended the steepest, Sonny grabbed for his sleeve, held him back. "That snow is untouched…no tracks."

They looked up, down, up, left, right, down. Listened. But neither could detect sight or sounds of a creek.

"It's a shelf." Jason tossed a good-sized rock at the untouched snow. It gave way with a whoosh. More snow than either thought possible just disappeared. "Fuck me."

"A ravine." Sonny edged closer, carefully, testing his weight before taking another step. "Christ, so what? Snow just appears out of nowhere? Falls away at will?"

But he was talking to no one. Jason was over the edge, running, slipping, sliding feet first down the rocky bank. He didn't take care, wasn't checking his speed, wasn't checking his descent, wasn't trying to stop.

At first, Sonny thought his boss had slipped, fallen, but then he saw what had sent Jason on his rapid, reckless plunge. And Sonny jumped after him. Going down the same way Jason had. Recklessly, but with more caution.

Reaching the bottom, ignoring a cranky ankle, Jason scrambled to his feet and slogged into the creek mindless of the cold water, the ice, the snow, the mud.

_10\. No decent medical pack._

Sonny was right behind him. Together they splashed through the water at a jog until they reached Clay. They each grabbed his jacket, an arm, lifted and dragged.

Clay was limp but dead weight, but neither Sonny nor Jason cared or stumbled. At a jog, their grip didn't slip, their step didn't falter. They cleared the water and dragged Clay up the bank, towards the meager shelter of a cluster of trees.

"Tell me he's breathing."

"Barely. Clay? Spence? Spencer? Hey, hey, hey." Jason dropped to his knees beside Clay who had yet to move. "Kid? Hey, hey, Clay?" he patted his checks, careful not to shake his head. "Clay, come on dammit."

"His lips are blue. He conscious?"

"Shivering, breathing is shallow, pulse is slow."

Jason tugged at Clay's gloves. Sonny cut the laces on the kid's boots and pulled them off, then his socks. Their boots were water resistant, not water proof.

"Swallow any water?" Sonny asked.

"Don't think so…..no."

_11\. No decent blankets._

Jason and Sonny worked side-by-side, checking for injury. In under a minute, Clay was out of his wet clothes. Sonny held him up. Jason guided his arm through a sleeve of his own coat, brought the coat around his back and Sonny took hold of his wrist to pull his arm through the second sleeve. Sonny's coat was wrapped around his legs, feet in the sleeves.

"Cover his head." Old wives tale or not, Jason was a firm believer you didn't go outside in the cold with wet hair. And body heat was lost through the head. "Nothing broken."

Sonny pulled Jason's hat from his head, put it on Clay, covered his ears and forehead, wiped the blood off with his glove. He used his own to cover Clay's hands. Together they rubbed Clay's arms and legs gently but briskly, trying to raise friction, restore blood flow, bring warmth.

Jason cursed, Clay wasn't responding or coming around like Jason wanted him to. He was showing signs of beginning to stir but he was sluggish, his movements uncoordinated. Skin still cold, lips still blue, breathing still shallow.

They'd all been trained in basic first aid. Knew about hypothermia; the do's and don'ts, what would and wouldn't help, but the need to protect and comfort often beat knowledge and training. The trick was to nurture without harming.

"Gonna hafta hold him." Jason said. "Body heat's all we got."

Sonny nodded. "You want him?"

Jason crawled over to the largest tree, turned around and sat down. It would shelter the worst of the wind. He pulled his knees up, spread his legs. He wasn't any to warm himself, lacked a jacket, but he wasn't freezing and if his body heat gave the kid warmth, comfort, he wasn't about to deny him that small measure. And if he got too cold, he knew without a doubt Sonny would take Clay.

"Ready? Hold, don't hug. Let him shiver." Sonny ordered. "20 minutes, we switch."

Clay flopped when Sonny picked him, his hands hung limply, his head bobbed, chin hitting his chest. Jason reached with both arms and took Clay's weight as Sonny released and let him drop. Once Jason had a firm but not too tight hold, Sonny tucked the coat back around Clay's legs, knelt at his feet and began rubbing again.

Every bit of Jason wanted to hug, hold tight, try and stop the kid from shaking….but he wasn't shaking, he was shivering….and shivering was good, so he curbed his desire, buried the instinct, held the kid close, let him shiver. He briskly rubbed Clay's arms and chest, rubbed again, laid a palm on the kid's chest and shook gently. Put his hands under the coat, felt the kid's skin, rubbed some more. Pulled his hands out, rubbed, put his hands back in. Over and again, repeatedly.

"You good?" Sonny asked. More than 20 minutes had passed, but he knew Jason wasn't ready to let go of Clay. Jason's movements were slower. Yes, neither he nor his boss wore a coat, but unlike Jason, Sonny didn't have a hypothermic adult male held between his legs, against his body. And if Sonny were to guess, he'd say it had gotten colder, windier…..they needed to get Clay off the frozen ground. "Want me to take him?"

Jason hesitated, loathe to let Clay go. But he was cold, getting colder. His feet and pant legs were wet. And Clay still shivered. His lips were still blue. His eyes were slatted, he didn't blink. "Gonna lay down, put him between us, you lay in front of him, put your back to us….cover all of us with one of the coats…..try Ray again."

_12\. Nothing to start a fire with._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love this show even more on re-watch. I think I will even buy it when the DVD box-set is released.

 

Ray saw Trent and Brock to the truck, bid the driver a fast bumpy trip. Communication to command was still out, but their comms suddenly cackled.

"Ray? You there? Anyone? Ray? Trent? Brock? Yo?" static over-rode the voice, but it was still audible.

Yo? The hell? "Boss?" Ray held a hand up to keep Brock and Trent from also responding, hand on his comm. "Boss?"

"It's Quinn."

And hello to you too, Ray thought. Not Bravo three? "Spencer?"

"Got him."

"He okay?" Ray really didn't expect to be told no. Even though the kid had disappeared, he figured he'd be found with a twisted ankle in a snow bank.

"Negative."

No? Had Sonny just said no? Brock and Trent got out of the truck.

"Come again? What do you mean, no?" Ray shook his head, motioning for the others to stay put. "Define negative Quinn." He demanded. "He shot?"

"We need blankets, stretcher, medical."

"Wait, what?"

"Found him in a creek."

Ray looked down at the ground. So, hypothermia. Serious, but not necessarily critical. "Is he conscious?"

"He's breathing."

"Compass working? Give me your coordinates…..okay, got 'em. Bravo two out."

After a fast deliberation, it was decided Trent and Brock would return to the plane, deliver the good monk, collect supplies and return. Since the nearest village was three miles away in the opposite direction they were going, they wouldn't waste time looking for local authorities. With communications spotty and a storm brewing, help would come faster and more efficiently from Eric.

"Sir?"

Ray blinked, he'd forgotten about the driver. A mere Army MP stationed at the airport for whatever reason. The Navy didn't have any kind of base or station in the area.

"Take my coat." He already had it off. "I won't need it. I won't be hiking up there. And here." He offered Ray a small bag. "Blanket, hand and feet warmers, bag of charcoal, matches."

Ray grabbed the driver and kissed his forehead in gratitude. Shouldering the knapsack, he stepped back and the truck rolled out. He hit the trail.

Because Ray was pissed, worried and a bit of a dick, nothing like Jason though, he'd allowed Trent and Brock to leave with their 'package' still bound and gagged for the ride to the airport. Whether they saw fit to release him during the ride, was on them. Ray doubted it though. They weren't any happier than he was over the monk's words about Clay. Course, they'd all be running hills on the training course once they got home, a reprimand Eric would see fitting, but hardly the worst punishment that could be meted out.

Besides, he panted, he could use the exercise. Jogging up this hill was harder than it should be. He wondered what the altitude was, maybe that was affecting his breathing. Maybe the knapsack was unevenly packed. Or it could be the cold, the anger, the worry….didn't matter….he had two miles to go before he reached the part of the path where the suspicious ambush - uh, hunting incident - had occurred.

()

Eric and Lisa met the transport truck. It came to a stop, the door opened and Trent shoved the monk out. He landed at their feet. Before Eric could open his mouth to comment, reprimand, speak, Brock was out of the truck and taking the planes steps three at a time.

"Something you want to tell me?" Eric asked calmly, seeing the bound hands, duct-taped mouth.

"Where are the others?" Lisa demanded. She waited, but no one else got out of the truck. And the driver remained, engine idling.

And Trent said. "Lost Clay."

"I meant the condition in which you delivered the good monk….." Eric began, then heard what Trent had said. "Come again?"

"Shots were fired. Hunter maybe. Dunno. Ray followed us down. Jason and Sonny stayed to look for Clay."

"Did they find him?"

"They did."

"So, he's okay."

"No."

No? Why was Eric still surprised whenever he didn't the answer he'd expected? He knew better. This was Bravo after all.

"Say what?" Eric managed, monk forgotten. "No?" he repeated, "What do you mean, no? What happened? We haven't been able to reach anyone. Not even on the sat phone."

"Don't know about the phone." Trent waved it off. "Ray took what the driver had on the truck, hiked back up."

"Speak, make it short." Eric demanded.

Crew from the plane came for the monk, helped him to his feet, removed the tape. Before they could escort him onto the plane, he started complaining about his treatment, the lack of courtesy shown to him, the professionalism of the supposedly best Tier One Unit the Navy had to offer.

"You don't shut him the fuck up…." Trent began. Eric nodded, waving the crew to take the monk on his way. "Clay fell in a creek, took nearly an hour to find him."

"It's cold enough for hypothermia." Lisa breathed. "They aren't equipped to deal with that! Hell, they aren't even dressed properly for the weather."

"Yeah, remind me to let Ellis know what I think about that." Trent spat. "Dunno how bad he is."

"Where are they?" Eric said. "If Mandy didn't tell us, she didn't know."

"Comms are working, but have limited range." Trent was anxious to go help Brock. "We have coordinates."

"Davis…" Eric began.

"I'm on it. Medical staff, transport to nearest hospital…..right."

"Yeah, you work on it." Trent said. "We're going back. The monk's your problem now."

"What do you need?"

"Blankets, sleeping bags, heat packs, coats, gloves, dry clothes, stretcher. We got anything to put coffee in?"

The monk appeared at the top of the steps from the plane. "I demand we leave immediately." He called down. "Order the pilot to start the engines. We must take off. He will not obey me."

"Pipe down!" Brock yelled from the depth of the plane's belly.

"I am here. There is no need to delay departure."

"The team isn't back yet." said Lisa, hands on hips.

"They don't need to be back. Their job was to escort me to the plane. They did. We may go now."

Eric was up the steps and in the monks face. "You sit down. You shut up. You stay out of my way. This plane will take off when there are six Navy Seals on board and not before."

()

Clay stirred, trying to raise a hand to wipe at his eyes. He couldn't move. Panic threatened and he fought to quell it. His arms were pinned but he could move his hands. His legs were drawn towards his chest, but he could part his knees, wiggle his toes. So, he wasn't tied up or tied down.

"Spencer? Hey, hey, relax, you're good."

Sonny's voice.

"Cold,"

"Yeah," Sonny agreed.

They were all cold. The air had one hell of a nip, a bone-chilling bite. Spring?! HA!

"Head hurts."

"Yeah," Sonny agreed.

"Hip." He held tight to Jason's pant leg at the knee.

"He's babbling." Sonny told Jason. "Boss?"

"Hmmmm." Jason sighed, rousing. "I heard him."

"Just checking." Sonny said. "Kid, you with me?"

No response.

He could feel Clay shiver, reached behind to feel with his hands, touched cold skin. Felt a pit in his stomach open and churn, not sure how much longer they could keep Clay from going into shock, falling unconscious. It was a battle they were losing.

"JASON! SONNY!"

And Ray was there, falling to his knees beside them, digging at the coat, pulling it off. Sonny sat up, gave him a hug.

"How is he?" Ray asked, tossing Sonny the knapsack. "Jason? He with us?"

Jason sat up, bringing Clay up with him, keeping him against his chest and held between his thighs. He gave the kid a gentle shake, got no response, nudged Clay's head to rest on his shoulder with his chin. Shook his head at Ray.

Sonny shook a foil blanket out, shook the packages of warmers and applied directly to bare skin. Fuck it. He took Ray's hat off his head and tucked it around Clay's feet then came up on his knees, grabbed Clay under the arms, pulled him out of Jason's arms and gave him to Ray who sat in the snow with the foil blanket across his lap and accepted him.

Ray hugged Clay tight, began to rub his arms. "Jason, put the coat on."

"New rule," Stiff from cold, Jason eased his arms into his jacket. "Doc clears him to return to duty, he waits another week."

"I'm cool with that." Sonny replied, rubbing his arms and stomping is feet to help circulation return. He put his own coat back on, they used Ray's to cover Clay's legs and feet.

"Okay with me." Ray agreed. "Gonna need a vacation to recover from this last heart attack he just gave me." he winced when Clay jabbed him with a shoulder. "Hey." He jostled him a bit. "Stay still."

Jason sighed, rubbing his head. "I've been beat up, blown up, shot, stabbed, hung, choked, drowned, never got a grey hair." He too, stomped his feet for warmth, pointed at Clay. "This one though, man."

"Think those couple shots caused him to fall?" Ray hissed with a grimace as Clay dug into his side with an elbow. "Jesus kid, the hell."

Whether it was sitting up rather than lying down, Ray rather than Jason, Clay was restless, discontented. He squirmed, fighting the blanket and hat to free his hands, pushing at Ray's arms, trying to worm his way down, kicking at the hat on his feet.

"Don't think he likes you Ray." Sonny joked. "He didn't do that with Jason."

Ray's glare of promised retribution made Sonny decide to clear snow, pile rocks in a circle near the tree Ray sat against. He pulled the bag of charcoal from the knapsack and dumped the contents in the middle of the rocks. Wood was not plentiful, dry wood even less so, but a decent supply for a meager fire was rounded up and he soon had a fire going.

It wouldn't be large, but the weak heat it gave off was still a comfort they all needed and it might just take the chill off the air within their close circle.

"Good God, that feels good." Jason extended a hand towards the flame. His gloves were lost, when or where, he neither knew nor cared.

"Think it's gonna snow," Ray said, eying the sky, the gathered heavy clouds. So what they did not need right now. He pinned Clay's arms to his sides, but that didn't stop him from squirming. "Is it me?" he tilted his head to the side to avoid having his teeth clacked.

"Ten more minutes, and I'll take him." Sonny said. He was rubbing Clay's legs, hat-wrapped feet in his lap, tucked between his knees. "He warming up any? Lips gaining color?" he alternated, rubbed Clay's chest, his thighs, his chest, his shins. "Didn't little miss say it was spring, we wouldn't freeze."

"I don't recall a snow storm being in her forecast." Jason agreed. His butt was still numb, his thighs still cramped but he itched to take Clay back. He knew the kid still needed warmth and Ray had the most to give. "How far out do you put Trent and Brock?"

"Two hours, maybe." Ray juggled Clay's weight onto his thigh, tucked the kid's hands back into the hat with the warmer. "Hey, come on. Can you stay put? Still shivering, not as hard."

"He's moving, he's conscious." Sonny spoke up. "He gaining any color?"

"Yeah, but does he have to move so much?"

"His weight's on his sore hip." Jason squatted by the fire, adding another branch. "Longest fucking 3 hours of my life."

"His hip is healed." Ray retorted, nonetheless, he shifted Clay's weight to his other thigh. "Supposed to be."

"Give him here." Sonny said. "Dunno how he came down that bank, could have reinjured it, hurt something else."

"Any idea how he fell down a ravine into a stream?" Ray asked, juggling Clay as he sat up. Longest 20 minutes of his life. "Little help here Jace."

"Nope." Jason easily took Clay from Ray and held him while Sonny and Ray exchanged places, then let Sonny have him.

"You look at him, you wouldn't guess he was this heavy." Sonny rested his chin atop Clay's head. A futile attempt to keep it still. "For a little shit, he weighs a ton."

"You ok?" Ray asked Jason. "Look a bit pale. He's drawn a lot of body heat from you already."

"I'm good."

"Skied down the hill on his ass." Sonny explained. "Bet he bruised or battered part of him somewhere."

"Bad as it is, could be worse." Ray commented. "He could have been submerged, inhaled water, swallowed it. Instead of holding him, trying to keep him warm, you could be doing CPR, mouth-to-mouth, breathing for him."

"Not kissing him." Sonny shook his head. "Nope, no way, nuh-uh." but his cheek was against Clay's hat and he gave the kid a hug. "He's settling down a bit."

"But he's not coming around, is he?" Ray said to Jason as he gave his boss a hand up. "Come on, walk it off."

"No." Jason admitted. "Would help, we got him off the ground." He rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "He's not unconscious, but I don't like him being out here."

"Could be worse."

"Stop saying that. Doesn't make it any easier." Jason snapped. "It's bad enough."

"Back off." Ray warned.

"Anyone else, he'd die out here." Jason said. "We keep doing this, lose him, find him. Find ourselves in situations like this."

"Just doing our job."

"Are we that good at our job, keeping these incidents, you know, when he's lost, hurt, whatever, un-life-threatening?" Sonny grabbed Clay's hands, held them still, found the hat with the warmers and Jason put it around his hands - again. "Or do we just over-react every time we lose him?"

"Could be worse." Ray stood up to stretch, Sonny was right, Clay was heavy. "We always find him, he's good."

"If we were doing our job, we wouldn't keep losing him." Jason said sharply. "And he's not always good. Take now, we didn't find him..." he swallowed hard, turning away.

"Did we go through all this with Nate? Don't think we did." Sonny wasn't having any better luck keeping Clay still than Ray did. "You're gonna hafta take him back."

"We're good at our job." Ray said, punching Jason in the shoulder. "We wanted him, we got him. He makes us a better team and we will always find him. Yeah, things are sometimes bleak, he's giving us all grey hair and unlike you, I ain't 40 yet."

"Barely 40." Jason muttered. "Asshole."

"Kid's got a lucky horse shoe up his ass." Sonny muttered. "Cause I ain't feeling too good right now, that this..." he waved a hand around the area. "Could be worse."

"One of these times, you won't be able to say, 'could be worse'." Jason told Ray, agreeing with Sonny.

"I'm praying that time never comes." Ray looked again at the sky. "Or this storm. What the fuck's keeping them?"

"They'll be here." Sonny rolled his eyes. "Stop fretting like an old maid." he hugged, rubbed, shook, rubbed some more. "Come on kid, let's hear those pearly whites chatter."

Ray fed the fire. Jason took Clay back from Sonny. Sonny hunted more wood. They all kept an eye on the sky and silently urged Brock and Trent to make a prompt appearance. Falling snow would put their fire out.

()

"Aaawww, look at the two of you…..so cute." Brock teased. "Fire." he warmed his hands. "Feels good."

Humor, jokes, teasing was their way of avoiding feelings, emotions.

"About time." Sonny didn't even look up. "Stop for coffee on the way?" felt like they'd been waiting from dawn to dusk.

"We did, smartass." Brock smirked. "Hasn't been that long since we split up...just over three hours."

"He unconscious? Swallow water? His head?" Trent squatted down next to Jason. "Bleeding stopped."

"Superficial. No signs of concussion." Jason replied. "Dunno about water. He's breathing okay, pants a bit, doesn't wheeze."

"Any other injuries?"

Jason shook his head. "He's good. Didn't find anything broken. Goes in and out."

"So, not critical."

"He'll need a hospital."

"Blackburn's on it. Chopper on standby from the Army base."

Brock poured hot coffee into the lid of the thermos, offered it to Jason first.

"Spencer." Jason said

Brock shook his head. "He gets hot chocolate."

Jason took the cup. "Thanks." warm, no longer hot.

"Put your hat on. Change." Trent tossed pants at Jason. "Brought socks, no boots. You'll have to make do. You too, Quinn."

Jason took the cup of hot chocolate and held it for Clay, nudging his lips. "Hey, you with me? Can you drink? Swallow?"

No longer shivering violently, teeth chattering, Clay licked his lips, tongue tasting the liquid in the cup.

"That's it." Jason encouraged. "Just sips, okay? Yeah? Good?" he waited to see if Clay would swallow what chocolate he'd accepted. Would be able to. Trying and succeeding was not the same thing.

"Yeah?" Sonny asked. "He swallow?"

"Yeah." small victory, but Jason would take it, because Clay had yet to show signs of coming out of the cold-induced stupor.

Clay stirred, rousing to the warm, rich cocoa. "Cold."

"Yeah." Jason agreed.

"Head." Clay blinked. "Hurts. Hip." his eyes remained open and he looked around, finally locking on Jason. An upside down Jason, who stared down at him. "Shit."

"We gotta get going." Ray said. "No telling how bad this weather could get."

"Bah!" Sonny flipped him off, pulling a warm, wool hat over his ears. "Spring time dude."

"Jace? Let them have him. Get up, work out the kinks. Put the dry clothes on."

Trent and Brock took Clay from his arms, together with Sonny and Ray, they had him dressed in warm pants, wool socks, wrapped in a blanket and zipped into a warm sleeping bag within minutes.

"Yeah." the shared coffee was gone, the hot chocolate was gone. The fire was kicked out. Jason and Sonny had changed into dry socks and pants, laced their boots. Ray had donned his coat. On the count of three, they lifted, shouldered the stretcher and headed out.

()

Eric was with the transport truck when they reached it. How he had gotten there, he didn't say nor did they ask. When they got to the plane, Lisa waited with a medical staff.

Clay was examined, it was determined he would go by chopper to the closet military base hospital with Jason and Trent.

Ray, Brock and Sonny would fly out on the plane with the monk, return to D.C. Lisa and Eric would go with them.

"Call soon as you know." Ray ordered. "Take care of them." He told Trent.

Trent nodded, the door on the chopper closed and they watched it lift off.

Ray got the call from Trent as they were circling to land. "Talk to me."

"He's good." Trent said. "Bumps, bruises, headache. Warming him up with IV fluids, we'll be flying home with him tomorrow. Jason has a turned ankle, nothing serious."

"Good to hear. Nothing, uh, serious, then?"

Trent was quiet. "Bad enough. Could have been. Jason willing to sit there and hold him all that time Sonny willing to lie down with them? That they knew what to do? Made a difference Ray."

"We're a team. It's what we do."

"Yeah, see ya sometime tomorrow."

Ray hung up and relayed the news to the rest of the team.

Eric thumbed his eyes. Sonny had filled them in on what had happened while they waited retrieval - no, dammit, rescue. What these men were willing to do for each other without pause, thought, comment, was what made their unit the best.

And why their loyalty to Jason knew no bounds.

***END***


End file.
